


Never be broken

by BaneKicksDavid



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 04:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6549928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaneKicksDavid/pseuds/BaneKicksDavid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which war has a funny little way of bringing two people together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never be broken

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Summer Tenipuri Exchange on tumblr

His back hit the mat hard and for just a moment, Momoshiro Takeshi could hardly breathe. The pain was intense, shooting out to every fiber of his being while his eyes momentarily went white. He could feel each and every one of his cells burn as the woman standing over him lectured him.

“This may be your first day in my class, but you will respect the signals when they’re given,” Ryuuzaki Sumire said. She may have been in her fifties, but the woman packed a punch in those old bones. “In case you weren’t listening to my lecture this morning, green means keep fighting, yellow means tone it down, and red means cease all action.”

The cards were held by a small stand where Ryuuzaki had been watching the training matches. The card there was-

“To be honest, ma’am,” Momo said, “it just looks grey to me.”

This seemed to catch Ryuuzaki’s attention and she fished another card out of her pocket. “And this one?”

“A slightly lighter shade of grey.”

“And the jacket I’m wearing?" 

“As black as Kaidoh’s heart.”

“WHAT THE F-”

Ryuuzaki swore over the snake obsessed man. “You’re colorblind?”

“The doctors prefer the term ‘monochromatic’ but ye-" 

“And no one else thought to tell me?” she shouted over to the silent group of cadets watching the scene. “You too, Momoshiro. This is the type of information that needs to be shared day one.” She cursed again, rubbing her temples. “The better question is how you survived until this point.”

Momo gave his most brilliant smile. He had been waiting _years_ to share this perfectly crafted line.

“I’ve been told it’s my award winning personality. The kaiju do love a joker.”

* * *

Five years. Five long years they had been at war with the kaiju, the disgusting beasties that crawled through the breach in the Pacific Ocean. One wormed its way through every six months or so, wrecking havoc and destruction along every major city that touched the Pacific Ocean. Seattle, Manila, Hong Kong, Tokyo. The kaiju didn’t care if you were white, black, Mexican, Japanese, Chinese; they sought to destroy mankind.

The funny thing about humanity is, well, we don’t give up quite so easily. The governments of the world came together, pooling their resources to create gigantic robots to fight the kaiju. Jaegers.

Beautiful things, really. I’m not lying, I swear!

I was captivated by them when a kaiju struck Tokyo. How the two pilots moved in synch to cut down the kaiju with ease. What guy could resist the pleasant bad assery that came along with kicking some serious kaiju ass?

The whole process to get into the Hong Kong Shatterdome was difficult. Every boy and girl who had seen a jaeger fight in person wanted that. They didn’t want to sit at home, wondering when they would be next. We wanted to defend our world. We wanted the glory of slaying our first kaiju.

We wanted to fight. 

I was one of the lucky ones. I was selected for training because I was deemed drift compatible with one of my childhood teammates: Kaidoh Kaoru. We had been rivals for as long as we could remember, but, the thing about rivals is…we know each other better than ourselves. 

I understood his fighting style, how to counter his blocks, how he unleashed when he was cornered, and where he kept the stuffed dog he slept with at night. The same could be said for Kaidoh. The Marshall in charge of the Hong Kong Shatterdome said he never saw two people more drift compatible in his life.

Our first drift together was where we failed.

It’s easy to get pulled in by your own memories. The fear snakes around you, round and around until it pulls you close, refusing to let go. You hear the words of your partner, desperately trying to wake you up, to get you to realize its only memories. They’re not real. It’s all in your head. But they sound so soft, as if they’re whispering while a crowd of people cheers for you and your victory at Wimbledon.

I discharged our jaeger’s weapons, opening a hole in the hanger’s ceiling. The Marshall supervising our test run grounded both of us until we were deemed fit for fighting. I had always been at the end of Kaidoh’s glare, but it was the first time I felt pure, murderous rage from him.

We never bounced back.

After our grounded period, we were tested for our drift compatibility again. The results? We couldn’t have moved an inch in a jaeger. We tried a month later and received the same result. No matter how we tried to get back in sync, our drift compatibility never rose above twenty-five percent.

We were thrown back in the pool of possible cadets to wait until next compatible partners showed themself.

* * *

“Do you know why we brought you here today, Momoshiro?” Marshall Smith asked.

There were more people high-level military officers in the control room than Momo cared to count, all from countries of the Pacific Rim. A few from China, most from Japan and Hong Kong, and the lone American officer who helped run the Hong Kong Shatterdome.

His mind raced through his past year and a half at the base, the good and the bad. He hadn’t destroyed anything beyond repair or gotten a person killed because of his actions. Hell, he had barely been inside of a jaeger to help destroy a costal city, so that couldn’t be it.

There wasn’t much good to outweigh the bad either. He had fallen asleep during lectures about the kaiju and the possible reason behind their existence and earned his fair share of smacks to the ear because of it. His only crowing achievement had been having a drift compatible partner and look where he was now.

“I will take your silence as a ‘no,’” Marshall Smith continued. “Given your background, we believe we have found a drift compatible partner for you.”

The door behind Momo opened, and, all at once, the air around him started to crackle. The energy took him by surprise. It felt like…the first time he fought with Kaidoh on an even playing field. How their staffs had crossed, sending sparks into the air that only they could see. When they fought, it was as if their souls were linking together, piece by piece.

This…this feeling was on a different level. The sparks from Kaidoh had burst into flames, an unbearable heat that threatened to scorch his skin and burn him alive. But there was a kindness to the flames, one that seemed to pull back the moment it noticed Momo in the room and….hurt? Why hurt? The same heart wrenching pain Momo once felt not too long ago.

“Momoshiro, meet your potential new partner,” Marshall Smith said, “Kurobane Harukaze.”

It took a moment for the shock to wear off, and for Momo to comprehend who was standing beside him. He had seen that face so many times, and now….but it didn’t make sense. How could Bane be here?

“I’m going to have to decline,” Momo said. “I can’t be his drift partner.”

“And why is that?” Smith asked.

The fire was whispering to him, telling him to rescind his previous statement. This was his chance, his last chance, to let someone into his mind and help him fight against the kaiju. What was so wrong about Bane?

“I have to decline as well,” Kurobane said. “I already have a drift partner.”

* * *

There wasn’t a soul in the world that didn’t know their names. When you became a jaeger pilot, and a good one at that, you were skyrocketed into stardom. People wanted to know your name and face, to worship the ground you walked on because you saved their lives time and time again. You went on interviews, had dinners with politicians from all around the world, and, when the time came, you suited up and killed a few kaiju.

Kurobane “Bane” Harukaze and Amane “David” Hikaru were two of the best pilots out there. They signed up for the jaeger program in 2016 and by 2017 were piloting one of the first Mach-3 jaegers into battle. Her name? Cross Omega, and her steel finish and fiery nuclear reactor heart could send fear directly into the heart of any kaiju that dared cross her path.

The cadets from Japan looked up to them, dreamed of having the responsibility that Bane and David had. We had pride that two pilots were from our country, representing us on the battlefield and proving our country deserved to protect the world with the other greats.

The two were popular, if that had to be said. They were friendly in interviews while the public watched, sitting on the edge of their seats and waiting for their personalities to really shine. The moment always came, scripted or not, when each person watching them would smile and laugh.

David had a love of puns and Bane, well, not so much. Whether they were based in our native tongue or English, the two languages the nicknamed “Bronze Pair” knew, David always had a pun or two up his sleeve to use during interviews. Sometimes he would heavily accent them so the interviewer knew when it appeared, other times he slipped them in with such clever wit no one noticed. 

Except there were one of two ways those hidden puns would surface.

1\. David’s small ‘pffft’ that halted the interview, the interviewer blushing because he or she failed to notice.

Or

2\. Bane giving David a swift punch to the shoulder or a kick, shouting for his partner to shut up.

Whether the pun was noticed or not in the interview, the second option was always the end result.

People loved Bane and David’s dynamic, and the two cared about each other more than life. They were the heroes everyone wanted, and the heroes that would defend the world until the end.

* * *

Their protests were not heard.

The following morning Momo and Bane were at the launch pad, suiting up in their armor, and preparing to test their drift compatibility in Cross Omega for the first time.

Bane hadn’t said a word to him the minute he walked in. He merely let the machines bring the metal plates of his armor together, screwing it together with rapid speed and precision. A few techs applied the metal spinal armor to their backs, locking the metal in place.

There was still a strange energy between them. Less powerful than their first meeting, but still crackling in the background of Momo’s mind. It wasn’t insufferable, but it pushed Momo to speak.

“Sorry,” he muttered. He slipped on his own helmet, locking it into place.

“Don’t worry about it.” Bane shook his head, helmet already in place. “I don’t blame you.”

The doors to the back of Cross’s head opened, the tech scurrying to get out of the way for Bane and Momo to enter. Their boots clipped in with a dull ‘thump’ to the gears.

“Powering engines,” one of the lab techs said. His voice came through one of the few transmitting devices in the jaeger. “Beginning drift compatibility test in five….four…three-”

The drift was as Momo remembered it: rough.

He was pulled through a winding tunnel, bright lights and stars dancing across his vision as he caught bits and pieces of his and Bane’s memories. Some memories slowed, allowing him time to view parts of them, others shot past within a blink of his eye.

A few memories tried to pull him into their depths, trying to get coax him to the darkness and to get lost. Smashing plates, a loud, angry voice, the smell of stale sex permeating the sheets, and the low voice of Marshall Smith saying he was grounded.

The light was so close he could reach it. He needed a few more inches. A little farther before he-

“Right hemisphere online, left hemisphere online,” the tech said. “Drift successful.”

Momo’s eyes shot open. That meant-

He shot a glance over towards Bane, and the older boy had the same expression on his face.

He knows everything.

* * *

“How long were you…”

Ninety-eight percent.

Somehow they had achieved that percentage, and Momo could understand. Their memories and souls were laid out for the other to view, to see with their very own eyes. The other’s life was all too similar. Ninety-eight seemed too low of a number.

“Since tenth grade. We were only fooling around back then, but we became more serious after graduation. You?”

“Never…that far. Just…” 

A silence fell between them as Momo struggled to find a semblance of what had been done.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Bane said. “I saw everything up here.” He tapped his head. “Rivals tend to have a little sexual tension between them, and you need a way to blow off steam during wartime.”

“Six years though…”

“I don’t blame him,” the older boy said. “He was unhappy how he was living his life. He missed the sea, the gentle push of the wind, and you can’t get that feeling inside of a jaegar.

“He gave me a choice: him or Cross.” Bane couldn’t look at him. Could only look downwards. “He didn’t like my choice. Thought I’d get killed because I wanted to save people and not love him. He…he didn’t know I wanted to save the world so I could keep loving him and now…”

“Now he’s gone,” Momo finished.

* * *

 

The Kaiju War was a funny little thing, Momo decided. It had the ability to pull people apart, destroying the infrastructure of a family or wiping out an entire city from the map. But it also had the ability to bring people together. To combine the forces of an entire world to fight and defend themselves against an invading alien force.

Or to bring two hearts together.

Their next few meetings were still rough, trying to work the kinks out of their battle tactics and growing friendship.

When Bane finally opened up, he was always smiling and trying to support Momo’s inexperience the best he could. Out of all the men and woman Momo had come across in his recruit days, Bane was by far the best teacher. He was patient and understanding and would spend as much time as necessary explaining Cross Omega’s infrastructure and weapons to Momo. 

Each time they drifted, Bane brought color into Momo’s world. Not for long, his monochrome returned when he woke the next morning, but he was able to understand and see the world as Bane had always seen it. It was a stunning world, and Momo longed to be able to drift with Bane, to see that same world once more with him.

When they fought together in simulations, Momo could see a fire behind Bane’s calming eyes. It burned strongly, as if to destroy any kaiju beast that dared to come between him and those he cared about again.

As the weeks turned to months, Momo slowly began to realize the energy that surfaced whenever he was near Bane wasn’t as raw and powerful as he once believed. It was a single string that connected his body to Bane’s, pulling them closer and closer with each passing day. He wanted to act on his desires, to see if the older boy felt the same way, but the senior to junior relationship kept Momo from acting any further.

Their first real battle together, six months after their initial drift, ended with a slain kaiju and minimal damage to Taipei. Momo had wanted to kiss him. Wanted to thank him so badly for taking the time to teach him. Anything to show his appreciation and love. But Bane had other plans.

Right in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Bane disengaged his feet from Cross Omega’s gears and pulling off his helmet, freeing his mane of hair.

“Bane-san,” Momo removed his own. “What are you doing? We still have to return to the shatterdome and-”

Bane cradled Momo’s face in his hands as he brought their lips together.

Momo…he hadn’t kissed anyone in so long. Not since Kaidoh, and Bane’s lips fit perfectly with his, the edges curling up into one of Bane’s beautiful smiles.

“Idiot,” he laughed, their foreheads pressing together. “Like I could wait until we got back to base.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up and kiss me, you old man.”

“Cheeky brat.” 

The red string of fate burned brighter than it ever had that day. It pulled their bodies as close as it could with the metal armor still in the way and held them together even when the helicopters carried them back to base, the jaeger swaying in the wind.

The war had brought them together, and there was a chance the war would tear them apart. Until that moment, they had time. They had all the time in the world.


End file.
